Racers of the Night: HORIZONS EDGE
by Smoe05
Summary: [MAU Dragon Racing Sequel] A year since Drago's disappearance and the island nation of Berk stands divided in the fight for dragons. The fallout of the Red Death sees their fate rest with a few as Hiccup and Toothless face no ordinary villain, but the scourge of the Haddock name. Hiccup is left with an impossible choice in a final race to save not just Berk but all of dragon kind.
1. Prologue - Zero Hour

**PROLOGUE || Zero Hour**

It wasn't held as a foolish notion against her instincts, nor did the question ever incite an air of concern. The breeze for its bite was fair, a gentle sensation that brushed her cheek high upon the cliff. These days, the sun rose with fair tidings, a clean cast of blue sky above, and filled by winged creatures that soared uninhibited. Of them she could name very few, birds yielded a common economy for professions of which filled an abundance of labelled shoes, binoculars and in that respect, endless published volumes. The one in that she feathered the discoloured leathers of dared to dream grander; she'd heard what song the news would sing and read the articles of supposedly practiced minds. There was no leading in her field, not as she saw it, just the collaboration of many; however, the truth like gravity was all that grounded her to the reality of things; she was the leader of her field. The pencil dancing around her fingers were marked with age but no less were the marks to be etched upon the page.

**_May 15, 2004.._**

_If I had to explain things as simple as possible, there is no denying it, I've become unpopular; my reputation draws villainous intent and if there wasn't enough devilry to go around, I'm somewhat accident prone. In all fairness I do remind Diane to check on the distribution valves running above the central Sanctuary corridors. Regardless, those whom I thought were friends wear masks over their true faces; I fear they may deal deeds of an unsocial variety to the degree one may suggest as violent. I realise that sentence was being pretentious; I stole something of theirs and they want it back. The likes of who, villains or businessmen? Unsurprisingly, the two coincide on a regular basis…_

All as well to maintain a strong face for a forecast of diversity but her hands for reasons she rightfully knew and feared, shook. It wasn't all that cool, the breeze was for one amiss as the Summer months loomed ever sooner. Sunlight grafted a shimmering array down the flowing streams of water that brandish a long winding river to the sea; the overlook she sat about hosted a wide glimpse into the Skardi range to the North. How many of those sunsets was she allowed to see? when did the tides finally turn to a paramount of grievance and loss?

_I'm not ready to say goodbye. I don't want to leave everything I love to live out alone; it's not incomparable to death. But such is my fate…_

With a shudder to wrap her aurora in a sealed pain, the first tears slipped onto the pages coaxing the granite markings to blur. 'Damn this. It's my fault.'

_This journal shall stay on my person into the coming days; I've left everything in place for them to go on with a sense of insurance and peace. In time, they'll find what they need, my library is left for Hiccup, his aptitude will likely rival if not exceed my own, for his curiosity is remarkable as are any five year old's. I just pray he finds companionship, that Stoick does right by him; Berk needs their spirit and for the sake of dragon kind, I pray that they can forgive me…_

**_May 1, 2004, Downtown Berk…_**

Like the pencil had circled aimlessly in her experienced fingers, so too would the fork. The thoughts and mysteries of the world were clouded in her mind leaving the colourful city lights to an ethereal glow. An open setting, luscious vines wound the elegant curve of the pillars and people massed amongst the streets in tight top fashion enjoying a night at last beyond the strenuous servitude of the office.

'Val?' even in the realm of softness that the voice spoke, she couldn't miss the man whom it belonged.

His brow was thick and auburn hair sprouted in a powerful yet modest beard that was tied around the base. His eyes rung with the faintest lines of age, but they were obscured by the shimmering glow of his emerald eyes, eyes that sought only simple beauties and contentment.

'Sorry, even here I can't catch a break; I keep thinking we're out of the mess from ninety-seven but people as they are, can't help but to dig things up again,' she rubbed her forehead before returning the fork to the table.

'Much less the government inquiries. There's only so much I can do and when faced against the federal jurisdiction,' Stoick chuckled mirthlessly.

'They weren't your people, the onus was on me,' Valka said adhering to the fact.

'And I've been saying it for years. You didn't know,' he reached forward clasping her slender hand. 'It'll all pass on soon, the activist will get bored and move onto the next conspiracy.'

'Like the domestication impartialities?' she raised an eyebrow.

Stoick's cheeks glowed slightly as he hesitantly eyed his drink. 'I've no clue what you mean.'

'I see,' she cast him an unconvinced glance. 'So no meticulously hidden loop holes in dragon human interaction and accommodation laws.

'It must feel good being the leader in your field that you're practically making up the rules,' Stoick snarked back curling his own smile.

'It's a trial and error circumstance,' she grinned. 'The fireies have it hard enough on the rural theatre lest they need excess domestic troubles too,'

'Aye, I spoke with Finn the other day. There's a little work to do near the Northern Oakfields. It picks up in the dry season,' he said, taking a sip from his glass. 'Speaking of Finn, how's Astrid going?'

'Like I keep saying, I wish I knew what happened. Her arm will heal in full, but she'll wear those scars the rest of her life,' Valka rubbed her hands as the conscious image rolled over her mind.

Stoick for all his wisdom was out of depths, he couldn't say he knew enough. 'And what about you?'

'I… she,' Valka bit her lip in thought. 'They both need time. Stormfly was spooked at first, but she's become incredibly sad, she barely eats, some nights you can hear her wailing; I worry for the other dragons,' movement out of the corner of her eye realised them to the arrival of their dinner.

'For you madame, the smoked salmon, rocket linguini and the large serving of crispy Snapper with salsa verdé risotto for you sir,' the waiter gracefully slid the dishes from his arms before leaving the couple to their feast.

'Hmm, how time passes in good company,' Valka contemplated on the freshly prepared meal before her.

'I wouldn't have it any other way,' Stoick raised his glass. 'To the firefighters.'

The turmoil of yesterday, the uncertainty of tomorrow, Valka felt the weight the of her words. 'To the future of dragon kind,' she joined him with a clink of their glasses.

_I wish I could have told him then. I wish I could have told them all; that is the natural state of mind when faced with what was to come. Even as we walked across the promenade to Berk Tower that night, I could feel the tension with each step going forward in realisation that these were some of my last. Is this what terminal cancer patients feel, or are they at a greater ease and certainty; they've come to peace with their mortality knowing that the day they die is certain. I don't have that luxury, I may live and a life after that is as well as a ghost, a half-life. I think that's one of the cruellest ideas ever thought of and as I remind myself every single time I look over my shoulder; this is all my fault. Last week, I overheard Darius in communique within a person of interest; his name was never mentioned and the likes of which seemed to have him on edge. I often contemplated on the possibility that he responded to a higher authority, but the idea seemed ill suited to his nature. Perhaps it was a collective; the influence of several parties in a combined coalition. Regardless, his plans continue to thrive with vessels already set for Northern expeditions. My own plans have stumbled dearly, that I might have risked everything with a brief encounter; he was a dark man, trimmed hair, dark eyes and I could have sworn was a British accent. A collision in passing with brief apologies but those eyes met with recognition and not the kind you might see on a public theatre. I feel as though my time is almost up; Tomorrow, I'll use the coming rain and the cover of darkness to obscure their prying eyes. The road may be long but I'm not without a guardian; I still feel the sense of irony for it, it's only a box yet much more; regardless, no one knows about the old observatory. My contacts assure me their new underground research facility will be the safest place on Berk but to the dense wilderness unmarked on any maps, I'll hold my bets…_

**_May 19, 2004, Haddock House…_**

It was such a thought of inconsequence, what noticing a faint but new line on her face might suggest to some. Little things, the inescapable rapture of age making its mark but her vibrant auburn hair still shone with the richness of daylight. All that she needed, the likes of which included what had brought this fate, were packed in a duffle bag. The fibres in her bones vibrated in resistance, each buckle on her boots an agonising strain of effort. Indeed, she was dressed as if to tackle the wilder parts of Berk, the extra padding on the outer joints, a Kevlar vest with rivets curling around her figure and all of it woven with the latest strand of fireproof synthesis.

Her footsteps echoed heavily on the stairs leading up into the kitchen. Her face was pale against the mirror fastened upon the wall; the strands of hair glowed with richer reds against it and to her black attire. Valka resolved her will with a deep breath and pushed on knowing who awaited her at the top of the stairs.

'Are you off now Mum?' Hiccup's head poked by from behind the couch, many freckles littered across his face illuminated by the fireplace.

'Aye, duty calls,' she felt the tear on her heart as her smile was born naturally. 'Balmore's already on the way there, so best not to keep him waiting.'

Hiccup hopped up from the couch leaving behind the book he was reading; Valka caught a glimpse of the plain cover as the third volume of her own hand. Stoick appeared from the office, the concern in his eye unmistakeable and she that what wrought her stomach was guilt.

She lent down and caught Hiccup as he bounced into her arm. 'Ohh cool. Watch out for the dragon claws!'

'No. No dragon training this time Hiccup. Just a big pile of documents, but if anyone gets a paper cut, I'll let you know,' she beamed with her eyes sparkling against the fire.

She pressed a kiss against his forehead, bringing him close. 'Be good, help out. I'll see you tomorrow,' she rose with a faint pain in her throat.

Stoick rest his hand to her back. 'Are you sure about this Val, you could wait till morning I'm sure the team won't mind,' his tone was soft and laced with concern.

'Stoick, you know this has to be dealt with now. Their board wants my head,' Valka was firm with her intentions as she stared directly into her husband's eyes.

'Valka look outside,' he tried to counter.

'Yes, I know Stoick, but you can't change my mind. I'll call you as soon as I arrive ok?' she replied, unhooking her coat.

'Aghh, fine. Just… drive safely, please,' his hand brushed her cheek.

'I will,' she smiled before placing a gentle kiss to his lips. 'You make sure he gets to bed on time,' Valka nodded towards Hiccup.

The faint shimmer of light in his beautiful green eyes was almost enough to stay her feet; her heart was seized with a terrible pain that brought an unpleasant sting to her eyes. 'I'll see you soon,' and so she draped herself with the hood and met the storm with the first tears to be shed.

The headlights of her ute were caught by the rain as the streams of water glinted across the gravel driveway. The trails from the tires were an absent thought as she felt the vehicle slide a little; the coming of the trees that lined the road were blurred and masked by the thunderstorm with the horrors found in nightmares. Valka reached the tarmac of the main road with fluidity at the empty intersection before braving the greater leg of the journey along the Northridge motorway. What little mud she picked up along the gravel soon washed away as the timberland parted ways for the open view of the coastal road. Her route would lead her further towards the Western border of the Raven's Point parkland and in the state of isolation as it were, she found little to be calm about.

'In six kilometres, turn right at the intersection, onto Raven's Point Road,' her navigator chimed in.

Valka noted the map display suctioned to the windscreen finding the path ahead just beyond the Harolson Bridge. She was close now, another half-hour on the road and the rest to be covered by foot in thick wilderness with drenching rain and mud. The dufflebag rest idly upon the passenger seat still damp though not for the contents inside. She undid the zipper revealing among the various files, tubes, and the grapple gun, a small unostentatious box not unlike fabled flight recorders. With one eye on the road, she fiddled with the dials turning a particular node labelled frequency to her intended levels before flicking the device on. A blue light activated and for all the fiddling, that was it; it hummed softly without any further attention. At last a sense of ease began to seep through Valka's heart as she relaxed her shoulders. The world may have been shrouded by the mists and showers that plummeted down from above, but this road was clean driving across the ridge.

Headlights flared in her rear-view mirror with the full strength of their beams casting a nasty glare into Valka's eyes. To say all that she felt was the cold grip of fear would omit the fires in her heart as rage was equally ready to take its place. Two headlights became four and Valka knew that her escape was now a matter of interception; they appeared upon her tail without any pretence suggesting a daring chase had them shrouded in complete darkness with nothing but her taillights to guide. She allowed her foot to rest heavier against the accelerator and the speedometer gradually rose from the comfortable 80 up through 90 and teetering upon the breach of 100 kilometres per hour. Her company dared to match her courage enough so that the closer pair of lights crossed over to her left. The second vehicle closed the gap, cruising right on her tailgate boxing her in. Any such doubt was cast from her mind that these weren't foolish teenagers when the crackling sound of gunfire left sparks ricocheting across the bonnet.

Valka gasped and desperately reached inside the bag to find the very pair of round rimmed goggles she'd intended for later. Not moments later the windshield cracked in a shower of glassing and frigid rain was left to pelt against her face. The goggle's rims illuminated with a ring of red and for that brief second in darkness she was rewarded with vision that cut through the darkness in shades of green.

'In three kilometres, turn right at the intersection, onto Raven's Point Road,' her navigator echoed from floormats.

'You don't say,' Valka grunted before guiding the steering wheel towards her attackers.

She felt the bull-bar budge against the heavier Landcruiser. The nudge was a terribly dangerous manoeuvre at risk of all parties being subjected to the table drain in these conditions. Nonetheless, Valka earnt her break as the gunman fell back in his seat with the driver easing off to recover. She floored the accelerator easing off the impact. Steam billowed from the engine in its damaged state and she could already begin to feel the top end speed waning. Against the elements the Hilux mastered above all else, but direct gunfire to the carburettor was sure to stall that record. Her destination was void lest it be compromised, and these cronies would have her head either way. The scales dipped to such a degree that the hard choice arrogantly flaunted its inevitability before her eyes. Harolson bridge and all that it forebode was her only chance and the guide posts streamed all the way along to its steel beamed support structure.

The engine fluttered as it fumed dangerously, her dials inconsistent as warning lights flashed upon the dash. 'Come on you unbreakable bastard!' Valka urged as the gunman reappeared, his sub-machine gun raised towards her.

Valka reefed on the wheel and slammed the Landcruiser once more, this time straining the last of her engine before flames ignited against the rain. She charged off to the right hitting the table drain with a metallic crunch as the suspension met their load. The Landcruisers skidded to a halt at the head of the bridge with nothing but the licking flames to watch as the ute snagged a rock curling it over the cliffside.

**_15 Years Later…_**

'And I see that despite what those people on television say, any such belief or speculation, I knew that my path would one day lead back to you. I dreamed of it always but… so impossible was it to simply walk through the door,' Valka curled her armoured knees against her breastplate. 'How could I?'

Hiccup eased himself against the adjacent pile of rubble allowing his muscles to finally find peace from the pain that plagued them. 'I know how you feel,' he wheezed, grimacing at throbbing on his side. 'The secrets, the sheer necessity they have in keeping people safe.'

He reached out for Toothless; the Night Fury slowly curled in close allowing Hiccup to idly run his fingers across his scales. 'Such is hunting down Dragon Trappers.'

'Only in a life where they are the ones hunting me,' Valka attempted a shot at wry humour but in her own doubts there wasn't any to be found. 'Except they didn't really know. I was already dead in Drago's eyes.'

Hiccup ran his hand through his fringe allowing the sweat and dust to hold it from his eyes. 'What actually happened that night?' he asked.

Valka's eyes were glazed with a shine that seemed to be cast in history, the way she was unable to focus on a single point as if the events were happening right in front of her. 'I fell,' she breathed as if beyond their place of sitting, but then she stared down his soul with a new light that brazened like a dragon's eye. 'And then I flew.'

**_May 19 2004, Harolson Bridge_**_…_

The world no longer held upon its axis, lost into a valley of shadow and lightning. What remained within the bag was of little consequence and to say that this finale was worthy of the name? How could pride be so abundant in the regaling of her legacy, Valka understood long before this was a foolish notion to linger and still, she wondered if enough had been done to stop Drago. That was it, that was the reality she lumbered in doubt with; it wasn't time, she wasn't ready to die. Not now and definitely not here. Valka unclipped her seatbelt and at the first rotation of her vehicle, she threw herself out the door to the elements that channelled along the choppy river crossing. If she could be seen the words of many would call it a leap of faith; the predictability of humans rivalled that of the dragons but for once, faith indeed proved bountiful.

A hallowing cry travelled the length of the channel and there Valka saw her salvation, brilliant, golden eyes that cut through the rain and four powerful wings plumed in scales of beige and amber. Her wrists covered her face as the powerful claws plucked her from the air with ease; a dragon of her request and wise in both mind and muscle as he swooped in under the bridge supports to hide in the shadows.

Valka idly slid from his claw to rest upon his shoulder, her hand caressing the shimmering scales with tears that screamed all the relief in her heart. 'Thank you Cloudjumper, thank you.'

The further crunching steel below caught their eye as the Hilux was tested against the betterment of its reputation. It continued to roll down the embankment where the rapids finally consumed its remains. Upon the bridge, the battered Landscruisers emptied as the men and women shielded by dark raincoats watched the ute tumbled downstream.

'No one could've survived that,' a young woman stepped up to the edge.

'You presume too much,' her counterpart crossed his arms. 'Those things are unbreakable.'

The third man joined them, his attentions still upon the greater company. 'Do we send a party sir?'

The superior in question, his skin dark and black hair trimmed thinly, his eyes cast in shadow, shielded under his cloak and yet that scowl was unmistakeable. He carried only the gun up to the edge of the bridge and in complete silence, he fired a burst of ammunition; flames erupted in a plume as the engine gave into leakage and the fuel tank ruptured from impact.

'Tomorrow, the world will mourn the loss of an icon,' his voice was smooth, the remnants of his British accent still abundantly prevalent. 'But tomorrow, we will celebrate.'

**RACERS OF THE NIGHT:  
HORIZON'S EDGE**

**Begins 2020**


	2. RAIDERS RETURN TO BUSY BUSY BERK PART 1

**|| RAIDERS RETURN TO BUSY BUSY BERK ||**

**[PART 1]**

* * *

**_January 12, 2019, Norwegian Sea…_**

'Quiet!' Metal clashed with metal; the Dragon Trapper's teeth gritted as he stared down the beast.

In the shadow of night, Thor's mighty hammer sang no song to clear the dense fog that blanketed their cargo. The hours grew long and still their precious game sat upon rust, ice and soaked surfaces. The waves would cascade upon the hull and its creaks would echo across the seas, but this ship was far from derelict. They charted a hidden course, unsullied of resistance and any fool unlucky to venture this far out would find no solace. There were whispers of course, rumours of those who struck in the night. Silent they were, a breeze that whistled with the wind leaving little in their wake. Even as Kanaka patrolled the many cages upon the deck, he may have felt their eminence, but nonetheless, paid those stories with salt enough to rival the seas they charted. These dragons bore a destiny far to the East, beyond the jurisdiction of the Berkian nation and her knights.

The Shovelhelm cowered in her cage, a jeering chuckle to please Kanaka as he ran his billhook along its bars. He noted another of his company, brandishing the grey and navy fatigues of the Trader Shipping security colours with sharp eyes peering through the mist. The use of night-vision goggles may have illuminated the night but under the fog bank, they were reliant upon subtleties commonly lost to the naked eye. Their line was secure, their tracks covered and to remoteness such as this, what threat would dare venture these parts?

Something muffled caught Kanaka's attention, his eyes darting to his colleague's last position. Empty space filled the void, and yet, just the hint of a disturbance through the mist; he was not so cynical of the stories now. As he squinted down his row of cages, a faint silhouette painted itself against the mist, the figure of a man. He stood motionless with the night as his ally, until ignited with flame, conjured from beyond, a blade spread its flickering light before the Trapper. He reached for his gun when low grumble emanated behind him; a creature slunk with such grace from atop the cage of a Snafflefang, the mists parting to two terrible green eyes. He caught the footsteps thumping against the metallic deck before the plume of flame sliced through his weapon. It was severed in a shower of sparks as the assailant circled round for a secondary strike. Kanaka instinctively swiped with his billhook; his foe masterfully evaded not just his first but his second strike, ducking clear of its range. He lunged for a third blow only to have his wits turned cold; the emblazoned blade was hollow, split into two segmented shafts and the billhook was caught between them. Kanaka's grip was seized, his weapon torn from his hand before something solid connected squarely against his forehead. No amount of stumbling would right his course, as another powerful force toppled him face first to the deck. Against the darkness that followed, he barely registered to the slippery scales that brushed over his cheek.

The world was suddenly evicted of its twilight; a sharp crack spilled blinding light around the man. The approaching Dragon Trapper raised his rifle only to be coat hangered by another unseen assailant.

His body thumped against the deck and from the misty void, his leg was wound in a riveted, scaly mass before being dragged off into the mist. 'Bow is secure,' a feminine voice echoed softly into her helmet comm. 'Are you alright?'

Her midnight clad companion nodded once, before pushing further into the ship. 'Port side move in. Watch your perimeter,' she ordered, nabbing a handheld radio from the fallen foe.

'Copy that captain,' they relayed, engaging their portion of the plan.

High upon an overarching crane arm that overlooked the ship from Bridge to bow, a lean yet proven man lay prone with his eye on the team now in motion. 'Brant, this is Flashburn. Three Trappers moving along the outside lane.'

His reconnaissance scope was outfitted with thermal settings to pierce the mist; the bulk of the Trapper force remained stationed towards the bridge. Their quarry was plentiful despite the ill fate which besieged the Dragon Trapper's lingering occupation; the dragons of value were closest at hand. With their diversion in motion, the Trappers were spreading their forces along the misshaped lanes to close in around the intruders. In turn Brant signalled a small company down to intercept as he tracked ahead with his sister.

'Forward party in sight, run cloaking,' Brant Hamilton instructed, activating a key on his wrist as the first of the Trappers appeared through the mist.

'Six is clear Brant, taking point,' Brenda Hamilton notified him, scaling up the side of a heavy shipping container. 'Starboard team, what's your position?'

'Escorts away, holding fast for instruction,' a thick Berkian voice answered.

Hamilton's squad ran their operation cleanly and with the Trapper's pushing amidst their rising numbers, they had little defence against what they could not see. Flashburn studied the route ahead; he drew a line from the outer catwalks leading down from the bridge between six large container stacks that created a nasty choke point. Whilst they intended to liberate the dragons in whole, he was under advisement that strongly favoured that conglomerate.

'Starboard team, you're up. Timor, Verdana, Briggs, prep your holes. Tats, Ophera, Undara, draw in below deck, stay out of sight,' Flashburn instructed checking his wrist com for the six corresponding dots. 'On my mark, three. Two. One.

A short flash off the starboard hull echoed with a soft rumble leading the attention of the Trappers. Flashburn adjusted his posture to trail the guards as they peered over the rail. An empty wall of steel and the black waters below were all they saw, until a sudden force hurled them overhead into the freezing abyss.

'Escorts, we have Trappers overboard, Mala do you copy?'

Coasting high above the cloud bank where the moonlight sparkled in full, Diane Mala leant steadily against a great set of antlers as five restless dragons cawed and grunted behind her. She donned colours that hid her as a silhouette, a mesh composite layered in dexterous strips with golden trims befitting of her status. Power be to those who led, power in force and in protection, and as for the Defenders of the Wing, upon Big Red she stood, prepared to answer their leader's call.

'Holding firm Flashburn,' she stated with perfect diction. 'Ready on yours.'

'Good, Timor status?' Flashburn relayed, aligning his sights upon the Bridge side containers.

Jeraline Timor ran with three fresh recruits, arming the ship's engine mechanics with Changewing acid canisters set to detonate on command. In the shadows below deck, they wisped between the pipes and gauges like spectres unbeknownst to the Dragon Trapper hosts. She ran point with the others crouched low as she wound the compartments behind her, their activities sealed and secret. They could hear the thumping of their counterparts upstairs, and with no gun fire as of yet, it rested well on their conscience. At last, the stale confines of stagnant air was opened to the frigid breeze as the two teams converged in the centre of the ship. They lined up against the cages running in a wall to the bulk of the Trapper force. Between the threat of the armed forces, the terrified dragons snapping their thin eyes towards them and the icy winds, their blood ran hot with adrenaline.

Fresh on her first rescue mission, Christina Verdana felt her heart pulse as an adolescent Raincutter snarled at her; these dragons were truly wild, skittish and lawless to those she knew in the dragon races. She could accredit her retirement on changing times, younger generations were pushing their supremacy and in light of riders like Krogan, her talents were undeniably passed. Like her friend Georgia Briggs however, their talents were not for forfeit and the approach of a formidable young man offered a new, yet dangerous career. Together, Briggs and Verdana spotted their Portside counterparts adjusting the last of their charges; the four operatives were more seasoned in this kind of foray, but word spoke in favour of their combative frontrunners. Only two there were to brave behind enemy lines and each in accompaniment by unlikely allies. With the outer cages set, the rescue teams linked up to spark the catalyst event in motion.

'Commander Flashburn, the bombs are primed,' Timor notified.

'Copy that Timor,' Flashburn zeroed in on their position. 'Prep the second wave.'

'Undara, Tats, you're with me,' Brenda motioned to the rest of the team. 'Eg, Sweeny, cover Brant's six. Link up at the crane support.'

'Lane's clear,' Brant said, ducking around the corner to begin the next phase.

The cages were becoming sparse in favour of the large shipping containers and as such, every corner beheld an unseen threat. Brenda brushed up against the crates, creeping low to the deck with each dash between the ailses.

'Undara, take a vantage point,' she signalled up the containers. 'Let's hope these things burn through,' she remarked, clamping a charge on the container locks.

'They've been tried and tested Brenda,' Flashburn commented holding his sights on their line. 'Heads up, company at eleven,' he drew along the lanes towards the bridge where the captain remained unfazed, simply pacing by the helm.

Captain Ivar Whitton as reported, was a familiar name within the Defender's growing exports list; he was stern and a competent leader that swung with the ebb and flow of events. Flashburn had no doubt his night would soon reek with dissent on his part, the time of which was late for retaliation.

'No mistress, we've had to adjust our course south of the maze; we're not equipped to handle the ice with this load,' Ivar stayed his feet for the moment, his tone level and his eyes skimming the seamless horizon.

'Understandable captain. Though take heed on the forewarnings of your peers; this rebellion is growing out of favour with my associates. We've already lost two shipments, a third would only wean our support,' his superior relayed, her voice neither fair nor demanding but rich with the Russian slur.

'We've gone beyond necessary precautions, rotating patrols and check-in intervals. If they attack, we shall know,' Ivar reassured her.

'I trust you will captain,' she signed off, leaving the line dead as Ivar released a heavy sigh.

He reached for his vest mounted radio. 'All patrols, command says to keep your eyes peeled for bandits. Let's call it interval.'

The Trappers instantly turned in their reports on by one. 'Mannus. Kiln. Jenkins. Partivan. Rio…'

The transmission befell to silence capturing the attention of the Captain. 'Kanaka?'

With no response, Ivar clenched his teeth as the shiver tingled down his spine. 'Send a squad, find him,' he instructed pointing to four idle guards. 'Mason, are you on deck?'

'Yes sir,' Mason's reply was swift, easing Iva's concerns.

'Captain Ivar, its Jenkins' a sharp voice intervened.

'Report?' Ivar furrowed his brow, that sense of unease rising in his chest.

'The engine room is sealed; we can't get in. Someone's welded the door,' the Trapper relayed.

Ivar could feel his arms prickle before he slammed his fist against the primary console. 'They're already here. Line the catwalks, move the forward ranks in a sweep! Do not prime the alarms, I want precision, I want restraint, and for it to be done quietly. Our quarry cannot come to harm, no more than a scratch if necessary,' he pushed through his subordinates, barking orders before turning to two bulkier soldiers equipped in military grade armour. 'You two, hold the rear, they'll be after our prize cargo.'

'Who are they sir?' the heavy reached for his assault rifle.

'Dragon Riders,' Ivar gritted his teeth.

He lifted the lid of a nearby supply crate and lifted out nozzle fitted flame thrower. 'Johann has a personal interest in their leader, we need him alive, dispose of the rest,' he pumped the loading mechanism priming a coiled net cartridge.

'What about their assassin's?' the other heavy noted, twisting her knife between her fingers. 'Jenkins said they have assassin's now.'

'I've heard of them too sir,' the male heavy remarked. 'Well trained, near invisible, armoured and with… blinding white eyes.'

Ivar cast them a grilled expression. 'They're only human.'

The Trappers quickly mobilised with formidable discreetness; their forces spread themselves among the containers pushing towards the bow. They were determined to scour the ship unyielding to the looming threat, but it would lay little on their conscience when invisible arms wrapped around their necks. Still, their line held firmly with each other's peripherals marking from Port to Starboard.

Flashburn could see the coordinated movement from his posting and the conclusion rang with clarity. 'All teams, they're onto us. Use the height advantage, climb those containers.

'We're pinned Flashburn, six on our flanks. They'll catch our trails in the fog,' Brant whispered through the comm. We could use a distraction.'

Flashburn knelt, hoisting his pack over his shoulder. 'I'm on my way,' Flashburn relayed, skipping across the crane arm.

Brant pressed himself against the container side, one eye on his sister, the other on the Trappers training their weapons before them. Even with their cloaks, at this distance, these sharp hunters wouldn't hesitate, if not for the mismatched clanking of footsteps channelling overhead. The Trappers whipped around to the sound finding no sight to match it; a parting in the fog left little time to react as a dark figure was suddenly ignited in a trail of sparks and fire, the residual moisture gleaming on their metallic surfaces sparkled in hues of red and indigo. The likeness of a slim man, he vaulted from atop the containers dragging his roaring blade down the corner steel; the Trappers opened a blaze of gunfire trailing to slow as the blazing strikes cut cleanly across their weapons.

Another figure mask by the night dashed between the Hamiltons, the Trappers' flank was exploited as a pair of glowing short-hand axes shone light across the deck in fantastic and elegant trails. They swung in tune with the blade wielder as they danced between each other. The path was cleared, and the duo quickly parted in short pursuit of their congregating foes. Brant signalled to his sister to circle around and catch them on the rear and yet, the thumps echoed beyond the small confines of the aisle to greater flashes of light and ripping steel. The dragons were startled, rattling spines, and wings against their confines as a dark mass bounded through the fog before them.

With the last of the party quelled in unconsciousness, the bladed man retracted his weapon, catching a twirling jab at his stumbling opponent leaving a trail of sparks from his left foot. The Trapper clambered away on his backside, reeling in fear as the figure suddenly lit up in a symmetrical array of lights. The chest piece was brazened with two vertically arranged bars flanked by speckled details on his shoulders and hips. Most alarming were the two blazing eyes drilling him down without emotion, at least until the world was collapsed into darkness. The man hesitated, casting an unseen expression to his partner now hovering the butt of her axe over the Trapper's head.

'Astrid, I had him right where I wanted him,' the man's face shield expanded and drew back in three different segments.

Brilliant green eyes shone with the mixed light, his expression able to breath truly with subtle admiration as his skin felt the chilly air. Hiccup Haddock crossed his arms with an endearing smile.

'And now he's right where I want him,' his partner pressed the button on the side of her helmet, revealing a pair of blue eyes matching the oceans of day. 'Come on, they know we're here,' Astrid Hofferson doubled back, signalling the others to file through.

'We've still got the stacked crates for cover,' Hiccup checked their corners for any hidden surprises. 'No doubt the Bridge is swarming.'

'For now, they'll be buffing their ground defences, not mention we've lost eyes for backup,' Astrid zeroed in on an extra to their company.

'What?' Hiccup wheeled around, his trepidation a fleeting wash over his face. 'Flashburn?'

'They're moving heavier armour down from the Bridge, you'll need the extra hands to clear this wave,' Flashburn strode with intent. 'Have you found the container?

'Not yet, don't suppose you've seen our dragons?' Hiccup kept his eyes roving for movement.

As if waiting for the cue, a large mass of black glossy scales slunk across the nearby cages, his eyes illuminated with a beautiful green aura. 'Toothless, there you are Bud. Sorry bout that, had to improvise there for a second,' Hiccup ran his gloved hands over the dragon's large scaly head.

The Night Fury cooed gleefully rubbing up against his rider, though not to say his own gaze wasn't peered for enemies. A rattling sound followed by hushed chirps caught their attention as an elegant Deadly Nadder clad in shimmering blue and gold scales poked her head in search of a hidden entity.

'Stormfly,' Astrid quickly reassured her dragon at last bringing the count to its max. 'Right, that's everyone. Final wave gang, set your charges then clear the blast zone.'

'Yes captain,' Brant acknowledged peeling off to run their next set of explosives.

'Astrid, you take point while Toothless and I search for this container. Flashburn, go with Brenda on port side. Once I find these dragons, blow the engines,' Hiccup instructed, as the other defenders set their explosives.

'I'll have Mala on route in time for extraction,' Flashburn rested a reassuring hand on Hiccup's armoured shoulder.

Hiccup caught his eye. 'Take care commander,' he said with a single nod, before donning his face shields.

All radio activity and Heads Up Display visuals activated, illuminating the world to another perspective. The Dragon Riders charged beyond their company with their dragons in tow, leaving the second wave of dragons to draw the attention of the Trappers with sharp cracks and wisps of fog. Astrid drew her axes as the breach line approached; the first Trapper was weapons drawn, easing a steady path down the aisle. She crossed into the shadows before jumping the hunter with a precise slice that severed his weapon. With a short jab to his gut, Astrid delivered the final blow against the back of his skull. For the most part, their aim was to avoid fatality, murder was a harsh needle to their conscience, even against such villainy and thanks to Flashburn, their training had proven quite resourceful. In any case, the guardians that loomed in their shadow were ever present to dish out any final deliverance that might escape their perception.

Astrid cast a quick glance to Hiccup as he ran his hand along the containers, scanning the various numerical labels. 'Three, o, three… five, two six one five nooo. Come on, where are you? WSK nine o? Argh, Powers, Tina?' he radioed into the escorts.

Now skirting the edge of the fog bank, the dragon escorts could see the bulk of the ship cruising at a degree just South of the major ice fields. Perpetina Powers was low to her saddle with her eyes trained towards the ship deck. Anora glided idly in the pack keeping a level distance with the other dragons; now Hiccup was on direct call for her services.

'I read you,' she pressed her hand to her ear, being sure to hear him correctly.

'I need you on deck to help me look for this crate, the second wave of Trappers are closing in,' he relayed succinctly.

Tina cast a quick glance to Mala in reserve of her unique disposition; the seasoned dragon expert in turn offered her confirmation with a short nod. 'Understood,' Tina replied, angling Anora towards the ship.

Hiccup and Toothless skimmed back along the aisle towards the railings whilst Astrid held their flank secure. A burst of gunfire ricocheted off the container, skimming Astrid's armour with little effect beyond the force of the impact. She followed through flinging her axe to embed itself through the barrel of the gun; a cursory volley of Nadder spines met the Trapper's shoulder as Stormfly whipped her tail in defence. Astrid retrieved her axe, rolling her shoulder under the impact of the bullet.

She felt the slight tear in the plating, marring the sheen of her otherwise flawless suit. 'Damn. Thanks Stormfly,' she sighed.

It was in time too as Anora coasted in with Powers quick to dismount on Hiccup's trail. They crossed paths with Brenda as her squad continued to layer the containers with explosives. Another trio of hunters caught them on the corner with Hiccup quick to draw them beyond cover. Toothless wasted no time in bounding up the container releasing a powerful blast that crippled the section of starboard railing.

'Nice work Toothless, keep these guys covered. We'll be up ahead,' Hiccup instructed parting ways with his dragon.

He drew his blade for a fast encounter, both Astrid and Tina laying into their disarmed foe. 'Swords and axes against guns. What madness inspired this?' Tina remarked.

'It's incentive more than anything,' Astrid replied. 'We're normally in and out before they notice.'

'And we'd also have more time to plan, but we got caught out on this shipment. Kudos, to the Trappers on keeping it in quiet,' Hiccup quipped, running his free hand against the corrugated steel.

'Yep, nothing like an aggressive strategy at two in the morning, but you know we've had worse,' Astrid swivelled in her step as they crossed an aisle.

'I know,' Hiccup's voice was laced with a solemness born from the past. 'Gods, where is it? Hugh said it was in column 11, row 14,' he retracted his face shield.

'There!' Tina spied the corresponding inventory number painted in white bold print. 'WND-five three four nine.'

Hiccup cast a relieving smile. 'Which means the others are only two columns down. Come on.'

Tina vaulted onto Anora as the Razorwhip began to scale the containers, her sharp talons denting the steel. 'Once you three are clear, head straight back to base. We'll cover your escape,' Astrid explained, dropping her face shield.

Tina acknowledged the plan, returning her attentions to the container. 'It's been too long girl, open her up.'

Anora reeled back before blasting at the locks, shredding them with her silver fire. The doors creaked on their hinges as Tina scaled up her dragons neck to sneak inside. She parted them allow a little more light to filter in revealing the shimmer of silver scales dancing in an ominous coil.

'Windshear?' Tina whispered into the darkness, the soft slide of metal echoing around her. 'hey, do you remember me?' she carefully outstretched her hand as she had always known before a single eye that glowed with acid green parted.

Tina steadied her breathing, lowering herself. 'I'm here to take you home.'

The sparks rained and the puddles splashed under their feet as Hiccup and Astrid weaved through what little cove they had. The heavier lines of Trappers had pushed forward beyond the shadow of the Bridge but enough stood by to prevent their approach. They split for cover behind the outer Bridge supports and the last container with gunfire sparkling up the deck.

'The last of the dragons are in those three containers,' he indicated to the set behind the Trapper line. 'According to our source.'

'If we can trust our source,' Astrid grimaced holding her axes close to her chest plates.

'Fair enou-Agh! I really don't fancy running through that,' Hiccup remarked.

'They're closing in,' Astrid dared to peek with yet another spray of smouldering steel to meet her. 'Oooh, nope,' she planted herself up against the crate, retracting her face shield. 'Call it in. Use the distraction.'

Her face was strained with the impending fatality the corner beheld; Hiccup honoured her request, dialling up his timer. 'Flashburn, we're picking up too much heat.'

'Did you find the dragons?' he replied.

'Yeah, technically. The Trappers have us pinned and we could really use a distraction,' Hiccup flinched as another burst sparked by.

Flashburn was bunkered down with the other Defenders casting an eye to where Toothless couched on guard. 'Set clocks for six minutes. We have our window ladies and gentlemen. Light her up.'

The rescue teams signalled off to each other, Timor and Ophera held their detonators in hand. 'Do it,' and with a single button, a chain reaction crackled across the deck as steel ripped and burned.

From the Bridge, Ivar was poised in disbelief as the ship trembled, the rows of containers and cages were illuminated by a single crack of light before smoke mixed with the fog in a swirling haze. They could not see before them, but the wings that billowed in threads through the mist, a great charge for freedom found high in the twilight. The second of the blasts rumbled from below, throwing the Trappers to the deck and there, Hiccup and Astrid pushed for their prize. They cut through their weapons with ease, leaving their bodies limp for a later awakening.

'That's that,' Hiccup remarked.

'Hiccup watch out!' Astrid caught a raised barrel from out of the corner of her eye.

She slipped in behind him ripping through the barrel in a vertical strike that exploded with a mix of molten steel and gunfire. Her elbow was quick to ram an armoured chest piece as she brought the rest of mangled rifle overhead. The attacker was avenged in moments as a second armoured combatant countered her parry with a solid coat hanger. Astrid's armour sparked on impact as the soldier followed through with a knife. She caught the plunge in time to deflect it towards the deck; time enough for Hiccup to return with a solid right hook to the heavy's face before slicing at her armour with his blade. The charred pieces clattered to the deck with the woman groaning in pain as the sizzling residue cooled too close to her skin.

'Heavies,' Hiccup grunted.

Her counterpart was fast on recovery, once again catching Hiccup's blind side with a shoulder charge. The world flipped on its head and he felt the full force of the impact as the soldier slammed him to the deck. His blade was knocked clean from his hand as the heavy drew his handgun for a point-blank shot. The gun ripped apart in a blazing flash as Astrid flung her other axe before flipping herself onto her feet with a twirling kick to the heavy's jaw. She pushed through with a series of crushing blows, cartwheeling to nab her fallen axe and flourish it in a dance perfected through months of training. The heavy managed to catch a few blocks against the handle, but the radiating heat of the blade broke his parries as Astrid chipped away at his gauntlets.

Hiccup in the meantime, painfully dragged himself to his feet, retrieving his blade. 'Ow. Where're the dragons when you need them? Save getting pounded,' he checked through his systems panels finding no issues, only a little scarring to the paint.

'So they fight for you?' a gravely voice emanated behind him.

He didn't wait for thought, no secondary consideration as his blade slashed in an upward stroke, clipping the female heavy's mask. She screamed clutching at her face, her feet lost to their path as she stumbled across the deck in defeat. It was impossible to know how his hand acted with such definitive action, the hand he angled in such a way that the tip of the blade merely skimmed her flesh; the wound would cauterise and scar forever marking her memory of this day. For Hiccup, he felt it as a blur, the next step in a flourishing sequence of movements that would either save him or sign his death. There was no further thought, no lingering consequence as he retracted the blade to magnetise firmly against his leg.

As for Astrid, she worked her foe's resolve like grounding materials to powder. The heavy swayed with each successive jab to his pressure points. He crashed against the railing Starboard railing, rolling out of Astrid's fluent strikes. She severed them on each side in a cross action before driving her foot against the heavy's chest. The railing gave way and with a strangled cry, he tumbled to the aft deck. Astrid stepped up to the edge and watched as he crawled away in agony, unable to face she who vanquished him.

'That was hard,' Hiccup groaned, refocusing her attention. 'Harder than normal,' he handed her second axe back in turn.

'Thanks,' she deposited the weapon against her back holsters. 'They were military, trained mercs, not like Drago's rabble.'

Hiccup paused for a moment as the realisation dawned a strange reality upon him. 'Huh. No, no way, military would have nailed us round a corner, they're precise and… son of Gronkle.'

'Yep, not exactly inspiring,' Astrid replied, leading towards their target containers.

'We have three minutes and no, not what I meant,' he thinned his lips. 'The game's changing Astrid. Whoever is running the show, Drago, Johann, whoever, they're beginning to take us seriously.'

She could feel his words sink with a hidden weight. 'And you're not sure what that means?'

He shook his head to the simple truth before his eyes turned towards the containers. 'But this, I'd like to know,' Hiccup remarked, as he brandished his blade through the locks. 'Open sesame.'

For what revelation they may have imagined was a stark contrast, neither rare nor elusive were these dragons but common without question. If not for Astrid's eye catching a distinct marking that separated these dragons from the rest, their bounty was no more than a brown Gronkle, a red Monstrous Nightmare, and a green Hideous Zippleback.

'No. That's… how, when?' Astrid exclaimed hesitant to move any closer. 'They're racing dragons? How did they get racing dragons?'

Hiccup was caught off guard, his history fell short and for the first time in too long, he was lost to an explanation. 'I don't know,' his heart was thrumming with the adrenaline in his veins; they weren't safe here. 'We have to keep moving. Where's Stormfly?'

The Nadder appeared on command with a short chirp as the young Dragon Riders carefully approached the dragons. 'Oh, on call apparently,' Hiccup grumbled.

'Good training,' Astrid, spread a teasing grin before setting her intent towards the racing dragons.

They recoiled at first, unnerved by the strange creatures before them, scales of metal and glowing lights over their bodies. But behind the carapace was flesh and blood, they could smell them, they could see the shine of their eyes as they approached with open hands.

'It's ok,' Hiccup cooed, his gloved hands still shaking. 'We're friends, we're here to rescue you.'

In the heat of the commotion, the dragon trappers were overwhelmed in their numbers as dragons scuttled and clawed for escape. Flashburn and the Defenders were on the run, vaulting out onto the aft girders. Another blast impacted upon the starboard billowing a plume of flame.

'I hope we got them all, we had to skip on a few empty cages,' Brant commented to Flashburn as he jumped the railing.

'We've done all we could,' he replied with an eye on the aisles. 'Escorts, you're clear for extraction off the Starboard aft. Two minutes, lets hustle.'

Toothless paced around guarding their exit as the last of the Defenders filed in; his sharp senses cut through the mists and debris tracking any lingering threat. Of course, not all were enemies to blast with plasma as Sweeny and Brenda dashed beyond smoke.

'This thing is tearing itself apart Balmore, might've overdone the bangsticks,' Brenda quipped before she acrobatically cleared the railing for a clean landing below.

'Show off,' Flashburn chuckled to himself.

Sweeny eased up to climb down carefully. 'What about Hiccup and Astrid?'

'They've got their own rides Ava,' he said as the winds pelted down in heavy waves that plumed the smoke and mist around them. 'Speaking of which. Toothless, best return to Hiccup, we'll see you back at base,' he rubbed the Night Fury's neck before returning to his own escort.

The dragon's mass weighed in on the failing integrity of the freighter, but Big Red was no idle behemoth. The Crimson Goregutter stood tall with his antlers tearing down the walls of several containers around him. Flashburn took his leave with a final glance down the Starboard aisle only to face a demon that inhibited the torrential chaos in nightmares. His limbs froze, his eyes locked in a paralysis as all around he saw the shivering hallway drench in rain. The lone gunman raised his weapon with paramount intent and he could hear the echo in his mind call the very name that would take the heart from him.

'Drago!' Flashburn felt his shoulders crunch up against a frigid railing.

The gunfire whizzed past and in its place, a streak of bright light that exploded in smoke and plasma. 'Balmore! Balmore, look at me.'

He knew those eyes, beautiful green eyes that saw many incomparable wisdoms and wonders of this green Earth. Slowly, the waves below became a known noise and he could hear the strained cries of a fierce and principled woman.

'Diane? I…' he jumped his hands to his chest feeling for wounds where there were none.

Mala wrapped his arm over her shoulders as she carried to safety. 'Thuggory! Help him up.'

Thomas Mogadon leant down from his saddle rig with both hands. 'I've got you sir,' it was an effortless manoeuvre, with Mala leaping her way up to secure him. 'Alright big guy, take us home.'

Big Red roared with pleasure towards the idea, lifting up to release the crushing weight upon the deck. His thunderous wings dragged them in pursuit of their companions, linked up on their escorts in a great menagerie of multicoloured dragons.

'Where're the Wild Cards commander?' Thuggory searched far and wide for the distinct shapes of his friends. 'They have their own path Tom, trust me,' Mala rest a hand on his shoulder in reassurance despite the turmoil that amassed in her heart.

Rightly so, Astrid had locked in her harness and as Stormfly pottered about, the racing dragons calm at her tail as they poked about with curious eyes. Astrid returned a glance to Hiccup as he gently eased the Gronkle from her confines; he was measured with ease casting a single nod in her favour.

'Go on ahead,' he said. 'I wanna scope the Bridge, grab a manifest.'

'Don't be long,' Astrid replied.

'Yeah, well I'm stuck until Toothless shows up,' he spread his arms out. 'Seems he's gotten lost… again. I'll radio in once we're away, don't wait up,' he took to the stairwell, dropping his face shield.

The stairs clanked under his feet as he ascended to the helm; Astrid and the racing dragons surged beyond the mist with ease in a clean chase after the main flock buzzing on the horizon. They'd played their cards with precision and cohesion enough to execute a less than promising plan. Stealth for all its benefits was a delicate luxury, one Hiccup knew played to his disadvantage. A metal prosthetic no matter how advanced in its mechanics was still metal.

'Hold it right there!' Hiccup was caught on the last corner, it was the Captain no less, and armed quite extensively with incendiary equipment.

Hiccup took one look at the flamethrower and his shoulders dropped. 'Good one.'

Ivar sprayed a searing stream of flame without further warning, the inferno coated the catwalk in flickering flames as Hiccup bore the brunt of it. He raised his arm out of instinct, but nonetheless continued his path without injury or delay. Ivar could feel the heat being reflected as Hiccup slipped out of the central stream and grabbed hold of the fuel shaft. The motion was fluent enough to nab a knife fastened to Ivar's belt and slice the hose leaving the residual fuel to spurt and drip between the grates. Ivar stumbled against the stairs, his hands fumbling for the holster on his leg. He raised his arm for quick shot but Hiccup knew too well the thinking behind gunman of any kind. In his right hand, he held the stolen knife and with his left he brought his blade through the handgun with ease.

'At ease Captain,' Hiccup simply stepped past, tossing the knife into the chaos below.

Ivar could feel his arms trembling, his mind lost in feverous waves of impossibility. 'You… you walked through fire!'

'Ah huh,' Hiccup paid him little mind, rising at last to the helm.

The room was deserted with flashing lights and sirens blaring in a red haze. 'Great, less than a minute, come on, give me port,' his HUD ran an intense visual scan quickly highlighting a standard USB slot.

'Jackpot,' he slid past the chair and pressed a small panel on his gauntlet revealing a USB cord outfitted with an auto executable virus.

The small light flashed green on the port and within a second, his gauntlet displayed a number files being extracted from the ship's logging database. It would only take a few seconds, time enough for Hiccup to admire the mess left in the Defender's wake, but the absence of a particularly unique dragon was growing a darkness on his mind; he'd be sunk if they'd missed anything.

'Where are you buddy,' he whispered to himself.

His gauntlet flashed and Hiccup unplugged himself just as the lights gave out, plunging the room into a darkness beyond the lights of his suit. 'Right on time,' he chuckled, pressing a node on his hip that deposited a set of small cylindrical charges into his hand.

Hiccup flung them at the backwall alloying them to magnetise as he exited back onto the catwalks to a familiar sight down below. 'There you… ahh? Hehe, hey guys,' until the corner was host to a slight detail left within the recesses of his attention.

Given how six Trappers were assembled blocking both paths with their rifles pointed at his head, this was a rather uncanny conundrum, a conundrum to the unobservant at least. Jenkins stood firm; nonetheless, rising on Ivar's behalf to greet Hiccup with a personal regard. Jenkins should have been listening, for the wind in his ears rose in a shrill spike before a blast of light dislodged the catwalk. The other Trappers cowered for cover opening the only window Hiccup needed to vault from the rails and catch the grips of his saddle.

'Haha, always have my back Toothless.' he quipped, slamming his foot into the stirrups.

They circled round the Bridge for one final pass before Hiccup laid to rest the finale of his destructive machine. He pressed a dial on his gauntlet and the Bridge erupted in a splitting blast that shattered the helm. The remaining Trappers threw themselves from the catwalk as glass and shredded steel ripped by. Their work was done, the ship crippled at sea and to dare such a swim back to Berk held worse odds than staying put. A military patrol would find its way in time if not with a little guidance but until then, the star fields above call them home. Hiccup slowly clipped his harness into place allowing the free air to draw them out as the long night called him to rest. Tomorrow would come, Berk would greet them with silver towers against the cusp of sunlight and the dragons would meet their utopia.

* * *

**To be Continued in **

**|| RAIDERS RETURN TO BUSY BUSY BERK PART 2 ||**

**That's it for January, I have assessment coming, a family trip, forklift training and my 21st in Feb before it's back to the regular old UNI season - Year three of four.**

**I dislike Thursdays**

**My OC novel finally has its intricate plot**

**And the ravaging bushfires down South are like a strange dystopia that only comes to mind when I watch the news. But at least there's been a bit of rain.**

**Stay classy dragonites :D**


	3. ANNOUNCEMENT AND AN APOLOGY

The current times have played an ultimatum and the reality is, I don't have time to write fanfiction anymore.

The projects are not being scrapped but it will be in a state of indefinite hiatus. I am sorry. I've heard your praise, I've heard your criticisms and I would have seen these through to the end but I'm out of time.

For now, Racers of the Night Part 1 will be finished in its revision but after that, I'm gone to work solely on my studies and my original novel.

I doubt I will return to finish them, but I don't want to say goodbye to the many people on board with this story. Last I looked, Racers 1 had 30,000+ views; a number of whom I caught the attention of, it sparks hope.

If anyone would wish to know how the either Dragon Will Fly or Horizon's Edge panned out. PM me and I'll send through what I had in planning. At least then there might be some closure.

Thank you for the last five years and remember stay classy dragonites :D


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